Hello, my name is Len Fisher, and that is my daguerreotype –a product of a nearly miraculous invention I was fortunate enough to have viewed, and implemented first hand.
Family-
My family, as far as bloodlines are concerned, is of rather ambiguous origins. My mother, Cieta, used her corporeal subterfuge to contract whatever she could from our master. But do not judge Cieta harshly: This is the only form of power a Negro housemistress can possibly possess. I do not know of my actual origins so I will say nothing. Well, other then to mention that in all probability my master also sired me. In light of this, the only family which I truly possess or acknowledge are the personages of my mother, and my surrogate father Jed.
My Home
This is my house located on the outskirts of the Garden District
Religion-
My mother was steeped in the climate of voodoo… This is a fact that shames me on two fronts. I am compelled (out of respect) to stay in keeping with her seasoned ways of Saint Domingue. Nonetheless, as the owner of a small-scale slave run business , through none other than my own mother’s lecherous appeals, I have begun to slip from the grasp of my ancestors’ doctrine and to develop a strong faith in Christ... I only hope that I am fit for salvation.
Politics-
I feel as if the upcoming election of 1844 will do little other than to serve as a reminder of my ignorance of the world around me, and the lack of influence which I have over this country. Although from my experience with Whigs and Democrats, I hope that James Polk is elected, because the Whigs appear to be divided on what they want in almost every aspect of politics.
Education-
As far as most slaves are concerned, we house slaves were something to be envied and in turn hated. In verity, by all rights, standards, and traditions I should be dead -I was born with an unhealthy curve to my spine. Weakness and abnormality in a slave is not a desired quality. But my good master, partially due to his uncomely affection for my mother, said, “We can find a use for him.” I was trained by Jed, my master's Librarian and Steward, to one day be his stand-in. This was something which would never come about. I was freed before the onset of senility or old age could render Jed ‘useless.’ But this is beside the point. I learned to read because Jed taught me to, and I had access to my master’s extensive library –something which I would come to find out was quite extraordinary for a slave. But then New Orleans has always been open to new ideas and practices. Perhaps this is because we had whites, Creoles, free blacks, slaves, mulatto inhabitants, Frenchmen, Spaniards and even the red-skinned natives all within the confines of our city.
Occupation-
I work as a broker of cotton –a career path which I, as a freed slave, find to be ironic. I initially started in this trade because it was one of my master’s many enterprises. He hardly every talked in person with any of the shippers, farmers, or made any sort of deal with the buyers. He entrusted that business largely to his more clever and dependable slaves –many of which I bought with my mother’s money. I use the very same Negroes for the very same means, and, I see no need for my patrons to know they are in business with an emancipated slave.
Favorite Food-
My favorite dish is one which I’ve been served for the entirety of my life. Even when, as a slave, I had no other options. I have a specific weakness for red beans and rice –a wondrous mixture of ingredients such as rice, pork bones, okra, any and all manner of unnecessary spices and of course the beans.
Hello, my name is Len Fisher, and that is my daguerreotype –a product of a nearly miraculous invention I was fortunate enough to have viewed, and implemented first hand.
Family-
My family, as far as bloodlines are concerned, is of rather ambiguous origins. My mother, Cieta, used her corporeal subterfuge to contract whatever she could from our master. But do not judge Cieta harshly: This is the only form of power a Negro housemistress can possibly possess. I do not know of my actual origins so I will say nothing. Well, other then to mention that in all probability my master also sired me. In light of this, the only family which I truly possess or acknowledge are the personages of my mother, and my surrogate father Jed.Religion-
My mother was steeped in the climate of voodoo… This is a fact that shames me on two fronts. I am compelled (out of respect) to stay in keeping with her seasoned ways of Saint Domingue. Nonetheless, as the owner of a small-scale slave run business , through none other than my own mother’s lecherous appeals, I have begun to slip from the grasp of my ancestors’ doctrine and to develop a strong faith in Christ... I only hope that I am fit for salvation.Politics-
I feel as if the upcoming election of 1844 will do little other than to serve as a reminder of my ignorance of the world around me, and the lack of influence which I have over this country. Although from my experience with Whigs and Democrats, I hope that James Polk is elected, because the Whigs appear to be divided on what they want in almost every aspect of politics.Education-
As far as most slaves are concerned, we house slaves were something to be envied and in turn hated. In verity, by all rights, standards, and traditions I should be dead -I was born with an unhealthy curve to my spine. Weakness and abnormality in a slave is not a desired quality. But my good master, partially due to his uncomely affection for my mother, said, “We can find a use for him.” I was trained by Jed, my master's Librarian and Steward, to one day be his stand-in. This was something which would never come about. I was freed before the onset of senility or old age could render Jed ‘useless.’ But this is beside the point. I learned to read because Jed taught me to, and I had access to my master’s extensive library –something which I would come to find out was quite extraordinary for a slave. But then New Orleans has always been open to new ideas and practices. Perhaps this is because we had whites, Creoles, free blacks, slaves, mulatto inhabitants, Frenchmen, Spaniards and even the red-skinned natives all within the confines of our city.Occupation-
I work as a broker of cotton –a career path which I, as a freed slave, find to be ironic. I initially started in this trade because it was one of my master’s many enterprises. He hardly every talked in person with any of the shippers, farmers, or made any sort of deal with the buyers. He entrusted that business largely to his more clever and dependable slaves –many of which I bought with my mother’s money. I use the very same Negroes for the very same means, and, I see no need for my patrons to know they are in business with an emancipated slave.Favorite Food-
My favorite dish is one which I’ve been served for the entirety of my life. Even when, as a slave, I had no other options. I have a specific weakness for red beans and rice –a wondrous mixture of ingredients such as rice, pork bones, okra, any and all manner of unnecessary spices and of course the beans.